drive tube’s holding okay max’ed on momentum transport

betcher butt we’re gonna sail right through no prob

what’s the sci package picking up I’m gettin’ funny

it’s dropped clear of our wake now pickin’ up samples

look it that absorption line there, big fat one sittin’ at 2200 angstroms thick as your thumb

absorption cross section about 4 tim 10-₁₇ cm₂ yeah

I got the culprit right here, the sampler’s got a slide on now, looks like silicate grains only that’s no silicon line

average size right aroun’ 10-₅ cm I make it

Christ ’at stuff is peptides clear as a bell see those linkages

long chain stuff too all over the outer surface of those grains things are coated with it like an oil slick or somethin’

I don’t get it we’re seem’ amino acids in there too

those’re supposed to be dust particles what’s that stuff doing sticking to

look at that structure like a wall, long chains and the rest it’s a cell barrier got to be

doesn’t make sense

only use for a cell wall is to keep out your enemies

out here that means ultraviolet, UV’d blow those peptide chains to hell except for that li’l membrane there, bet it’s got silicon in it to block the UV

so peptides can stay inside the cell wall an’ link up an’ reproduce ’at’s the only thing logical I can make out

living stuff in clouds I don’t look it’s cold as a hoor’s tit out there what’s the thermodynamic driver for life

lots of IR around that’s how you saw that absorption line, same line that comes in most carbon complexes

see there in the middle that’s a silicate, the original piece of dust this cell started out on I bet

an’ two of ’em stickin’ together right there look the chains are migratin’ to the cell wall that’s it that’s it

my Gawd the density of ’em in here the ram-scoop is nearly chokin’ on ’em and the fluxlife is gettin’ barnacles of this goop all over we’re gonna have to clean up this mess

mess hell it’s reproducing cells man in these big clouds, there’s more mass in these clouds than in the goddamn stars for sure, look at all the dark patches in the night sky for sure it means there’s this peptide chem happenin’ everywhere …

Nigel watched the list of molecules and free radicals stack up: ethanol, cyanoacetylene, carbon monoxide, ammonia, methane, water—and realized that as far as the universe was concerned, this was where chemistry occurred. The planets were negligible. Driven by starlight, here the twisting coils had time to find their mates and build even more complexity. These molecular clouds were the compost heaps where the stars formed. They also swept through solar systems, littering the planets with sticky, hungry cells.

In the tenor of the crew voices he heard a strain of excitement. They had seen dozens of dead worlds and now had stumbled blindly into a caldron of life. The molecular clouds were the most massive objects in the galaxy, and they had been brewing longer than the stars. Lancer surged and burned a hole through this one, leaving fiery remnants. Ahead, glimmering dimly through the smoky fog of chemistry, was the wan glow of Ross 128.

PART SEVEN

2081 Earth

One

In midafternoon six delta-planes came in low, made a pass and arced up, one at a time, to land in V-mode. They came down in the rocky area to the south, and a few minutes after the shrieking engines shut down three squads of fast, lean-looking infantry came double-timing onto the beach.

Warren watched them from the shade where he sat within clear view of Gijan. The man had made him carry the radio and power supply from its concealment in the scrub and onto the beach, where he could talk down the planes. Gijan shouted at the men and they backed away from the beach where the Skimmers might see them. A squad took Warren and marched him south, saying nothing. At the landing site, men and forklifts were unloading and building and no one looked at him twice. The squad took him to a small building set down on rocky soil and locked him inside.

It was light durablock construction, three meters square with three windows with heavy wire mesh over them. There was a squat wooden chair, a thin sleeping pad on the floor, and a fifty-watt glow plate in the ceiling that did not work. Warren tasted the water in a gallon jug and found it tepid and metallic. There was a bucket to use as a toilet.

He could not see much through the windows but the clang and rumble of unloading went on. Darkness came. A motor started up nearby and he tried to tell if it was going or coming until he realized it was turning over at a steady rpm. He touched the wall switch and the soft glow above came on, so he guessed the generator had started. In the dim light everything in the room stood out bleak and cold.

Later a muscular soldier came with a tin plate of vegetable stew. Warren ate it slowly, tasting the boiled onions and carrots and spinach and tomatoes, holding back his sudden appetite so that he got each taste separately. He licked the pan clean and drank some water. Rather than sit and think fruitlessly he lay down and slept.

At dawn the same guard came again with more of the stew, cold this time. Warren had not finished it when the guard came back and took it away and yanked him to his feet. The soldier quick-marched him across a compound in the pale morning light. Warren memorized the sizes and distances of the buildings as well as he could. The guard took him to the biggest building in the compound, a prefab that was camouflage-speckled for the jungle. The front room was an office with Gijan sitting in one of the four flimsy chairs and a tall man, Chinese or Japanese, standing beside a plywood desk.

“You know Underofficer Gijan? Good. Sit.” The tall man moved quickly to offer Warren a chair. He turned and sat behind the desk and Warren watched him. Each motion of the man had a kind of sliding quality to it, as though he was keeping his body centered and balanced at all times to take a new angle of defense or attack if needed.

“Please relax,” the man said. Warren noticed that he was sitting on the edge of the chair. He settled back in it, using the moment to locate the guard in a far corner to his right, an unreachable two meters away.

“What is your name?”

“Warren.”

“You have only one name?” the man asked, smiling.

“Your men didn’t introduce themselves either. I didn’t think I had to be formal.”

“I am sure you understand the circumstances, Warren. In any case, my name is Tseng Wong. Since we are using only single names, call me Tseng.” His words came out separately, like smooth round objects forming in the still air.

“I can see that conditions have been hard on you.”

“Not so bad.”

Tseng pursed his lips. “The evidence given by your little”—he searched for the word—”spasm in the face, is enough to show me—”

“What spasm?”

“Perhaps you do not notice it any longer. The left side, a tightening in the eyes and the mouth.”

“I don’t have anything like that.”

Tseng looked at Gijan, just a quick glance, and then back at Warren. There was something in it Warren did not like and he found himself focusing his attention on his own face, waiting to see if there was anything wrong with it he had not noticed. Maybe he—

“Well, we shall let it pass. A casual remark, that is all. I did not come to criticize you but to, first, ask for your help, and second, to get you off this terrible island.”

“You coulda got me off here days ago. Gijan had the radio.”

“His task came first. You are fascinated by the same problem, are you, Warren?”